


Honey Band-aid

by dontmindme_imafangirl



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: (kinda), Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hurt Bucky Barnes, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, think that they're all happy post CW okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 20:43:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15614613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontmindme_imafangirl/pseuds/dontmindme_imafangirl
Summary: Tumblr Prompt: "I can kiss it better, if you'd like" + stucky getting togetherLiving with rowdy roommates was annoying.Living with rowdy roommates that were suddenly quiet, was terrifying.





	Honey Band-aid

*****

There’s a gentle breeze seeping through half-opened windows, sifting through his hair, light brimming through curtains fluttering with the wind.

Steve sighed, feeling the heaviness of sleep lifting from his eyelashes.

It was a quiet morning.

Oddly quiet.

He quirked an eyebrow, shifting to sit up and stretch.  
By now, he should already be hearing the sounds of quarrel, Sam and Bucky jabbing half-hearted insults back and forth.

At the very least, he should hear the sound of clutter, of at least one of the many people living in the headquarters moving around.

But there was nothing.

He checked his phone, looking for any messages that’d alert him of what’s going on, and sure enough, there it was; a bright text notification from Bruce.

“Off to a press conference. Thought you could use some extra rest after last night’s villain attack. Rest up :)”

He sighed, dreading the notification below this, the name ‘Tony Stark’ blearing on his screen.

“we didn’t leave you completely alone icicle. have fun ;-)”

Steve could feel his throat bob at that, dread building up in his chest.  
Any message from Tony ending with a wink emoji was never a good sign.

Before he had a moment to ponder over the text’s meaning, a crashing sound came from across the apartment, followed by a gruff groan, a muffled litany of curses from an overly familiar voice.

Steve rushed out his room in an instant, uncaring of his ruffled appearance, of his bare feet hitting cold floor tiles.

Ah.  
So that’s what Tony meant.

There, in the kitchen, stood one familiar, gruff, ruggedly handsome Bucky Barnes, with a loose shirt and sweatpants, his hair tied back and an apron hanging off of his shoulders.

Steve didn’t need much time to put two and two together.  
He saw the apron, saw the shattered glass on the floor, the way Bucky covered his flesh arm with his metal one, lip curling up in pain.

There were multitudes of pots and pans behind him, some sizzling, some boiling, a kettle resting to the side.

He took a step forward and Bucky’s eyes immediately turned to him, an instant cautiousness at first, a habit he couldn’t break off from, before his gaze softened at the sight.

“Morning”, he said with a huff, looking almost embarrassed of his current predicament.

Steve rolled his eyes.  
“Good morning. Do I…want to know what you were doing?”

“Cooking?”  
Bucky cocked his head, and it took all of Steve’s willpower to not gush at his best friend’s small sly smirk, at his raised brows.

“I can tell as much. I guess I was more curious as to why? And what?”

Bucky huffed, keeping quiet for a moment as he bent down to dust glass shards into a dustpan.

“Everyone else is out. And I wanted to make us the usual thing.”

Steve squatted across of him, swatting his hands away from the broom and dustpan. Bucky held his gaze for a moment, but Steve’s glare was firm and left no room for argument.

Go treat your hand and leave this to me.  
But-  
No.

An entire conversation within a few seconds of eye contact.

Bucky sighed and pushed himself back up, turning to the sink to wash his injured hand.

Steve could see droplets of blood pooling and dripping off of his palm, but Bucky didn’t seem in any particular distress, nor did the bleeding seem extensive, so he eased, focusing back to sweeping the shattered glass away.

“What’s the usual?”

“Hm?”

“You said you’re making the usual?” Steve asked.

“Yeah. Your mom used to make us boiled eggs and that grease-dripping bacon. I missed that.”

That gave Steve pause.  
Of course he remembered it. 

It was every Sunday morning, after church. After elbowing one another and whispering jokes and teases as they sat in their church pews, their mothers frowning at them, they’d always go to either Bucky’s house or Steve’s for breakfast. 

“Your mom always tried to make us eat healthy. Made some kind of oatmeal with fruit-“

“Dried fruit and cinnamon. You loved that shit Rogers.”

Steve huffed a laugh.  
“I’d usually eat your oatmeal too since you refused to.”

He remembered the Sundays they’d spent together, with Bucky’s parents, with his mom, the fond smiles on their parent’s faces as they saw both kids as their own. 

He remembers the first Sunday after his mother died, how Bucky had held him during Sunday service as quiet sobs wrecked his body, how he guided him home after and sat him down, made him eggs and bacon, only he undercooked the eggs, the bacon ending up burned to a darkened crisp.

They took one look at the sight and laughed, laughed to the point of tears and ended up eating waffles in a local diner, Bucky’s grin sweeter than maple syrup, and Steve felt like everything would be alright. 

And now here they were.

Steve finished cleaning the shards and stood, coming to a halt besides Bucky to throw the shattered glass to the bin.

“I can’t promise it’ll taste good, but I’ll try not to burn anything” Bucky teased. He’d already wrapped a towel over his hand, pressing it down into his palm.

Steve made to tug at Bucky’s wrist, urging him to move the towel away.  
“Let me see.”

Bucky hesitated, but let Steve tug the towel away and discard it to the side, holding his hand in both his palms as he assessed the damage.

There was a long gash going from the base of his pointer finger to the middle of his palm. It seemed irritated by the scruff of the towel, but nothing bad enough to warrant bringing out the first aid kit.

“What’s the prognosis doc?” Bucky teased.

Steve pretended to examine his hand further, bringing it closer to his face for inspection, humming and nodding to himself.

“You’ll live.”

Bucky laughed, the sound causing Steve’s heart to flutter.

It took so long, after finding Bucky again, to get to see him smile, to laugh like he used to.   
Steve could feel his eyes tear up the first time Bucky genially smiled at him again, after all the years he spent thinking his best friend, the person he loved, was gone.

But now he’s here. He’s right here, inches away from Steve, cooking them breakfast and laughing and the words ‘I love you’ were so close to spilling from Steve’s lips, his hands shaking in anticipation.

He let Bucky’s palm drop away from his grip, hiding his embarrassment with a chuckle.

“I’ll help you out with the cooking. For the sake of the kitchen, and our breakfast” he laughed, his eyes profusely avoiding Bucky’s, even though he could feel his best friends stare flush on his face.

“It hurts.”

Steve furrowed his brows, looking to Bucky for any sign of discomfort. What hurt?

“It hurts” he said again, bringing his palm up for emphasis.   
Only, there was no particular emotion in the way he said it. If anything, there was a sly smirk on his lips, a brow raised in taunt.

Steve didn’t know where this was going.  
He felt his face flush.

“I can kiss it better, if you’d like?”

He didn’t know where the question came from. Even Bucky’s eyes widened at the response, blinking once, twice for good measure.

“I mean-you know, we were talking about our childhoods and whatnot-our moms used to do that all the time didn’t they” Steve laughed, fiddling with his hands, taking slow steps away from Bucky and from the situation, “I was just joking, let’s get back to cooking.”

He knew he was rambling, and suddenly he felt all too small, like he was that same kid from Brooklyn again, small, meek and anxious, feeling like his lungs would collapse at any moment.

The moment never came though.  
Bucky brought his hand over Steve’s flailing ones, his grip firm yet gentle.

He said nothing, merely looked to Steve with those green eyes, a cat-like curiosity and patience, a thousand words in one look.

Steve took a shaky breath, slowly bringing Bucky’s palm to his face, nuzzling at the helm of his palm.   
He let his lips flutter over the wound, eyes fixed on Bucky, eyeing his every move, ready to flee at any sign of rejection. There wasn’t any.

He brushed his thumb over Bucky’s knuckle, turning his face towards the hand in his grip, and let his lips linger over the wound, that had by now become but a superficial scratch.

He could feel the warmth radiating from Bucky’s fingertips, the reddening of his cheeks visible from Steve’s peripheral view.

They remained like that for a moment, before the sound of boiling water caught their attention, a pot left on the stove fizzling and spilling water over the edge.

They laughed, laughed at the absurdity of it all, at their current situation, at the repressed emotions slowly unleashed.

Bucky leaned towards the stovetop, one hand still in Steve’s grip, and turned the heat off.  
He frowned for a moment, lips pursing ridiculously, before he turned back to Steve with feigned sadness.

“It hurts”, he started again.

Steve pretended to give an over-exaggerated kiss to his hand, making his lips smack loudly.

“There.”

But Bucky shook his head.  
“No, it hurts”, he complained, “here.”

He pointed to his lips, his pout now making space for a wide grin, and Steve couldn’t help himself.  
He had to kiss that grin off of Bucky’s face.

After all, he said he’d kiss it better, didn’t he?

******

**Author's Note:**

> *stolls in with an iced coffee and heelies* what is up my dudes im alive! kinda! it's summer but im studying for upcoming exams and pretty much live off of caffeine but i missed writing about all the fandoms im in so you'll see me a l o t more often for the next few weeks, hopefully
> 
> thanks to my buddy Jen for sending this prompt! sorry it took 8000 years to get to it orz, she's also sent me some more amazing stucky prompts, coming your way soon! 
> 
> you can hmu on mothgane.tumblr.com where you can also commission a fic if you'd like (check my link 'Commissions')  
> you can also support/follow me on ko-fi if you'd like: https://ko-fi.com/sophiee


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